The Shadow of Winterfell Chapter 3

Cersei Lannister

Cersei watched the sprawling lands of the North pass by her carriage as Winterfell came ever closer in the distance. Despite still being summer, the outside cold warranted her pulling her coat tighter, doing her best to not let her irritation show. It wouldn’t do to show weakness now, especially when they were due to arrive at the seat of House Stark soon.

As much as she wanted to turn her nose up at everything, to call the northmen savages and disparage the land they called home, Cersei found herself unable to truthfully voice such thoughts. There was a reason that her husband, despite being the moronic oaf that he was, had decided to head North in search of a Hand. It was a choice that both earned her ire and respect, and Cersei conceited that travelling North might be the best decision that Robert Baratheon had ever made. Or the worst.

The South was filled with fools, and Cersei had dealt with enough of them in the capital to last a lifetime. But one would not find such filth in the North, where men could not afford to be weak else they starve when winter comes. It was a land filled with rugged and competent men, the kind that could make any maiden blush.

The North was known for producing the strongest fighters in the Kingdoms for a reason, and it was those harsh winters that forged them. Even if Northern knights and Lords never participated in tourneys, few experienced knights from the south would dare try and test their might again a standard northern soldier.

And it was for good reason, as it had been Ned Stark himself who had killed Ser Arthur Dwayne after all. The latter said to be invincible, the strongest knight to ever serve on the Kingsguard. That tale alone had spread through the kingdom like wildfire after the rebellion, being told second only to Robert and Rhaegar’s infamous duel on the Trident.

And it also seemed fitting that Ned Stark would also be rumored to be involved with Arthur Dayne’s sister as well. Ashara Dayne was truly one of the most beautiful women in the Seven Kingdoms, something even Cersei would admit, and a Dornish beauty like her being matched with Ned Stark was certainly interesting.

As with many rumors however, they only contained part of the truth, with the rest being fabricated by court mummers. Last she had heard, the Lady Ashara Dayne was still in mourning at Starfall, heartbroken after her lover killed her brother. But that could also be conjecture, as most of the tale stemmed from Ned Stark dancing with her at Harrenhall.

Cersei pushed those thoughts away, eyeing the two handmaidens seated across from her. Dorcas was a large woman, and it almost looked obscene for her to be sitting next to the smaller Senelle. That said, Cersei knew that Senelle had the most backbone of the two, and Cersei depended on her the most when she needed various favors done in the capital.

Her gaze briefly shifted to Jocelyn Swyft at her side, the only one allowed to sit so close to Cersei, having been born into one of the Noble Houses in the Westerlands. The woman was a craven in Cersei’s mind, timid and slow but eager to please, something Cersei had exploited to its fullest. She needed allies, after all, and sometimes that meant taking advantage of those too weak to fend for themselves.

A source of her frustration was her lack of influence in King’s Landing as of late, something that had only grown more apparent since Jaime left the Kingsguard. It happened after the Greyjoy Rebellion, during the large tourney at Lannisport, as her father finally managed to convince Robert to let Jaime go. After so many years, Tywin finally got his wish, something Cersei only knew to be unavoidable. After all, everyone knew it was impossible to deny Tywin Lannister.

It left her without someone to turn to, a man to keep her warm and fuck her hard in bed. For a terrible moment she was tempted to turn to Robert, but Cersei discarded that idea almost immediately. But as she sat in that freezing carriage as it rolled along, a new idea dawned on her.

There was an opportunity presented to her by traveling to the North, the chance to make new allies amongst those unfamiliar with the games played in the South. Cersei already knew that Ned Stark wasn’t going to bend, the Lord of House Stark was too used to the rigid ways of the North to be used in her plans. But there might be others she could use, those who were less rigid in their ways.

An image of a strong, rugged Northman appeared in her mind. His muscular form appearing as if chiseled from stone, scarred from years of hard living. It would be the perfect companion to have while in King’s Landing, someone who could fuck her hard behind Robert’s back, all the while being used as her new ally in the capital. It would suite her needs perfectly.

The noise of crowds and trumpets broke Cersei out of her thoughts, and another look out the carriage window revealed they were finally entering the castle. She could make out some of the ancient walls and towers that made up Winterfell, each of them standing tall and fierce. The castle itself had an age to it, a sense of enormity that Casterly Rock never had, something that almost seemed fitting in northern Westeros.

Her carriage soon came to a stop and the door opened, allowing Cersei to gracefully make her way down. All eyes were on her, as was normal, including the Stark family along with the multitude of knights and fellow Northern Lords that had gathered in the large courtyard. Behind the Starks she briefly noted one man, tall and muscular with a rugged look and piercing emerald eyes.

Cersei let her lips twist into a slight grin. After all, the Game of Thrones could use some new faces in it, and Cersei was only too happy to comply.

/////

Jon Snow

The King was fat. That thought alone would have gotten him killed or sent to the wall, but Jon couldn’t help but think it. King Robert was nothing like his Father described, being a strong warrior standing taller than any man bar the Mountain. It seemed that the life of royalty had softened him, or rather, enlarged him.

He grimaced at that last thought.

The Queen soon arrived, exiting from an ornate carriage that he doubted even House Stark could even afford. But it wasn’t the fancy carriage he was looking at, but the buxom blonde woman that was Cersei Lannister. She really is the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms.

Jon heard Theon curse in disbelief at the sight of her, and a glance at his side revealed Harry to be completely indifferent. Typical.

King Robert and Father talked more, as the Queen soon made her way over. His siblings went through all of the necessary pleasantries, all the while he and the rest of the men went completely ignored behind them.

“Take me to your crypt, I want to pay my respects.” King Robert finally said to father, as it seemed the arrival ceremony was finishing up.

“We’ve been riding for almost a moon, surely the dead can wait.” The queen objected, sounding almost bitter.

The courtyard became awkwardly quiet then, as men-at-arms glanced uneasily at one another. Jon felt himself grimace, and could see Lord Stark gain an uneasy expression. The King ignored her, insisting his Father go, soon the two left to visit the crypts.

“Where’s the Imp?” Arya suddenly chimed in, breaking the tension in the air.

And that was how he ended up searching for Tyrion Lannister, as Robb volunteered they go in front of Lady Stark and the Queen. Jon wasn’t alone, as Harry and Theon tagged along with Robb as well, sent on the strange task of seeking out Tyrion Lannister.

The group of them descended upon the winter down, led by Harry and Robb with himself and Theon taking up the rear. The arrival of the royal party had filled the taverns and alehouses with all sorts travelers, traders, and smallfolk eager to glimpse the King and his court. Fires crackled in hearths, and the scent of wine and roasting meat drifted through the air.

“If I were a drunk dwarf,” Theon said as they walked, his tone light. “where would I be?”

Robb rolled his eyes. “You’re halfway to being one yourself. You tell us.”

Jon chuckled as Theon fumed, as Harry led them through the winter town and to a brothel of all places. It seemed that Harry already knew where Tyrion was, if that was even possible, but Jon had no time to question it.

“My Lords!” A scantily-clad woman at the front greeted them when they walked in. “Do you require our services?”

Theon grinned lecherously, eyeing the woman, before a different whore entered then. She approached Harry first, but his cousin sent the woman a glare before she shifted her gaze to Theon.

“Do you require my service, my Lord?” She asked Theon, sauntering up to him and placing her hand on his chest.

Theon laughed. “Who am I to resist?”

The woman led Theon away, much to their ire, meanwhile Robb continued trying to speak to the other woman. “We’re looking for Tyrion Lannister.”

“Ah, he just came in an hour ago.” The sexy woman replied before telling them which room Tyrion occupied.

Robb didn’t wait and made his way through the establishment before bursting into Tyrion’s room, with himself and Harry following. The squeals of whores greeted them inside, and Jon briefly glimpsed three of them naked before he finally found Tyrion. The Lannister dwarf looked drunk, but not at all surprised to see them.

“I was wondering when someone would come looking for me.” Tyrion Lannister mused, looking their direction with boredom. “Was it the Queen who sent you to drag me back?”

“We volunteered to come find you, Lord Tyrion.” Robb answered.

“I’m not the Lord of anything.” Tyrion scoffed. “Who are you anyway?”

The three whores seemed to have recovered from their sudden entry, and one of them even got out of bed and made their way over to them. Harry gave her a particularly nasty look, with Robb also looking unamused. Jon was glad that his brother and cousin were fine with handling the situation, as he had never been good at handling women.

“Robb Stark.”

“And these must be Ned Stark’s bastards.” Tyrion said, eyeing himself and Harry.

“How did you know that?” Jon asked, suddenly feeling irritated at being called out for his base born status.

“You have the look of someone who doesn’t belong, my friend.” Tyrion replied, before looking at Harry. “And I’ve heard quite a lot about you.”

“You have?” Harry looked mildly surprised.

“You must be the infamous Shadow of Winterfell.” Tyrion said to Harry, taking a sip of wine. “At least, that’s what the whores around here call you. For some reason they swooned over the rugged nephew of Ned Stark, someone who’s never around, elusive, and the kind of person who could do good work for me in King’s Landing.”

“You’re offering me a job because of what you heard from some whores?” Harry sounded amused, almost in disbelief.

“You’re right that I am. I’ve always found whores to be a good source of information, and what they’ve said about you has me interested. I could use a man with your talents in the capital, even if you are Brandon Stark’s bastard.”

Bastard. Jon’s hand turned into a fist. He had always hated that word, especially when the likes of Greyjoy used it in the yard to diminish his base born status. And yet Harry didn’t so much as blink when called a bastard. His cousin had never cared for his lowly status, something Jon was somewhat jealous of.

He chalked it up to him being the only living offspring of Brandon Stark, the older brother of Jon’s father, who should have been the Lord of Winterfell if he hadn’t been murdered by the Mad King. It gave Harry a certain amount of renown in the North, as Jon had witnessed the respect different Lords gave his cousin over the years.

“Don’t call him that.” Jon said before anyone could speak, his anger flairing. Harry was still his cousin after all, and Jon didn’t like the way this dwarf was talking down to him.

“Ah, and that must make you Ned Stark’s bastard then.” The Lannister grinned him, seemingly not intimidated at all. “And why shouldn’t I call you and your cousin what you are? You’re both bastards, are you not?”

“You don’t know what it’s like.” Jon fumed, Tyrion’s words making him rage internally. “What we’ve had to endure…”

“All dwarves are bastards in their father’s eyes.” Tyrion replied. “Here’s some advice, bastard, embrace what you are, and see where it will get you.”

“I believe that’s enough of that.” Jon opened his mouth to retort, but Harry spoke before he could. His cousin gave him a bashful look, before turning back to Tyrion. “As for your offer, I’ll think about it. That said, it’s best we get back to the castle in order to prepare for tonight’s feast.”

/////

Val

Even from the other side of the castle, Val could hear the sounds of feasting that went on inside the great hall of Winterfell. She stuck to the shadows as she snuck around the castle, keeping herself cloaked and hidden as different servants and patrols of guards made their way around.

It was dark out, late in the evening as Winterfell’s residents celebrated the King’s arrival. The royal party of southerners had settled in fully, and she was sure all of them would be partying and fucking well into the night. That left her to roam the castle’s grounds freely, keeping her eyes open for anything suspicious that might be going on. It was Harry’s request that she do so, as she would be his eyes and ears while the King remained in Winterfell.

It was only once she crept behind a parked wagon that she saw something that gained her attention, as she noticed a group of cloaked men that crept through one of Winterfell’s courtyards, each of them carrying weapons. She could see the weapons they held, being various clubs and axes, and could tell the group wasn’t looking to get in any sort of armed confrontation. They instead looked like some sort of local gang, as if they were out to vandalize property and terrorize the local population rather than take on armed knights and men-at-arms.

Well then, it seemed Harry was right about someone being up to no good.

They snuck through the different recesses and alleyways outside the castle, avoiding guards and moving silently, until the group finally reached their destination. It was the crypts of the castle, one of the places Val had yet to explore, as the group charged and knocked out the guard by the entrance before making their way inside.

Val soon followed them into the crypt, past the beaten and unconscious guard at the entrance, and then down the stairs and into the depths below Winterfell. She dashed behind a stone memorial of some sort once fully inside, watching the group as they focused on one statue in particular.

It was a newer statue, Val could tell that much, as it had no cracks like the others nor was it worn with age. The statue was of a beautiful woman, her face the picture of youth and pure innocence. And yet the men descended upon her with hammer blows and force, uncaring for the ruckus they made as they began breaking the woman’s statue into chunks before they began vacating the crypt hastily.

She watched as the last member of their group was more clumsy than the others, and he accidentally tripped over a chunk of stone as he made his way towards the stairs. The others didn’t seem to notice, nor would they likely help him, as they all knew that guards would come soon to investigate the noise created by their destruction. It left Val with an opportunity to find out what they were up to, and she took it.

As the cloaked man moved to get up, Val crept up behind him before restraining and gagging him. The man tried to resist, but Val was more skilled than him, as she quickly slammed him to the ground before thrusting a dagger deep into his thigh.

The cloaked man screamed, but the gag in his mouth stopped the noise from getting out. She looked down at him as he slowly realized what was happening, his gaze fearfully meeting her own.

“If you don’t tell me what I want to know, then the pain is going to get worse.” She said coldly, holding a knife to his eye. “First, tell me why you did this.”

She ripped the cloth gag out, and the man breathed shakily. “W-We were paid to do it.”

“Good.” She replied. “Who paid you?”

“A w-woman, named Senelle.” He answered quickly. “She said the queen wanted it done. That’s all I know, I swear it!”

“That’s all I needed to know.” Val replied, before slitting his throat.

The man fell to the stone floor with blood pouring from the wound, and Val moved to flee the crypt before she heard the alarmed shouts of men by the entryway. Instead of hurrying up the stairwell to the entrance, she instead turned and fled deep into the Winterfell catacombs.

A/N:

The horny Queen Cersei makes her appearance, along with her brother, and the southern plots have already begun!

As a note, I’ve decided to mostly keep Jaime Lannister out of this story. As described by Cersei, Tywin managed to drag Jaime out of the Kingsguard right after the Greyjoy Rebellion, so I hope this doesn’t disappoint you. This is probably the biggest change to the universe, and I hope it’s not too AU.

There will be about 2-3 more chapters in Winterfell before everyone begins the journey south.